The Dragon Saves the Princess
by IndianaJoans
Summary: Tom thinks he is Molly's knight in shining armor, and Sherlock is the dragon that will ruin their life. His perspective is wrong. The dragon is the hero.


It was never meant to get this far, it had started as a small row over the bills. She was amazed that the neighbors weren't baning at the door, complaining about all of the noise. Molly's tears rolled down her face as she watched his enraged face. His once calm and handsome face wickedly twisted and turned red as he threw insults her way. She wanted to turn and walk out, but for some reason her feet were planted like an old tree as she listened to his harsh words, just waiting for the abuse to end itself.

"Are you even listening to me?" Tom spat, stepping closer to her, "Or have you gone off into your stupid little head again?" She shook her head and tore her eyes away from him, looking anywhere but at the man she thought she loved. "Jesus christ, can you not use your words? You really are just another stupid bitch aren't you? I expected more from you, really Molly. My mum told me that I could walk into any pub in London and find any other stupid whore with less baggage but no I wanted you! Don't you understand? I wanted you the pretty little doctor who had a broken heart, I thought I could fix you, but now that I have you I realize that you're just like the rest. Too stupid to fix." She looked up again to meet his eyes. "Christ, now I hate you."

"Then piss off," Molly snapped.

"You don't tell me what to do!" he growled, planting his hands on the wall behind her, totally surrounding her, "when we get married I am the husband and you are the _little wife_. You don't talk back. You don't tell me what to do. You pay the bills when I say so. You do as I say, not the other way around, got it?"

"Any chance you can repeat that for me?" a deep voice boomed from the doorway suddenly, "I don't think I caught _all_ of the rules." Molly choked out a laugh as Tom turned to look at the consulting detective.

"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing in our flat in the middle of the night?" Tom hissed.

"It's my bolthole," he said simply, "and it is not your flat, Molly's name is on the lease, not yours. Now what exactly were you going on about, you fixing her? Like she's some broken thing?" Sherlock's eye's met Molly's for a moment and she knew exactly what he was doing. Buying her time to get away. "Molly Hooper is not broken, she is a highly intelligent woman, also you're no knight in shining armour arsehole."

"This is a conversation between husband and wife now do us all a favour and crawl back into your little hole of a flat!" Tom yelled as he turned his full attention to the taller man. "You have no place in this! Where do you think you're going?" he reached for Molly as she tried to dart toward the detective. She wasn't fast enough, he caught a large portion of her hair and yanked her back, causing her to cry out as she fell to the floor. "I'm saving you from this toxic bastard!"

Before Molly could look up, she saw the flash of his belstaff as Sherlock lunged for Tom, who let go of her hair as he got knocked down. She could hear the sound of Tom's head hitting the ground, but that barely seemed to slow him down as he began trying to squirm out of Sherlock's grasp. Molly quickly got up and moved around the kitchen counter, trying her best to separate her emotions as she looked for a defence. The sound of a firm contact stopped her movements. Tom had gotten a good punch on Sherlock, and Molly's heart froze at the sight of blood coming from his face.

"Come here, you little bitch," Tom said as he regained his feet, immediately lunging over the counter at her.

"No!" she screamed as she threw a empty cup at him, "Tom stop this! Holmes get up!" He quickly cornered her, and slammed her back against the counter.

"You're mine to save not his!" Tom hissed as he put a hand around her slender throat. Molly could not believe the man above her was the same man she had agreed to marry, the rage in his eyes focused on the sole task of choking her to death. She tried prying his fingers away as she was gasping but his grip was too much.

"Sherlock!" she gasped, trying to claw at Tom's hands. "Sherlock help!" she croaked before she started to see dots in her vision.

Then he was pulled suddenly away from her, again by Sherlock's hands. Sherlock shoved the man a distance, before putting himself between Molly and Tom. This time Sherlock did not wait to throw a punch, his fist landing first in Tom's ribs then connecting with his jaw. Molly watched through tear filled eyes as Sherlock finally bared down on Tom, punch after punch before the smaller man fell to the floor. She let out a hoarse cry as Sherlock turned slowly toward her.

"It's alright now, Molly I'm here, I promise you're safe," he vowed as he approached her with his hands out. She looked him up and down skeptically, just moments before she watched him release all that rage on Tom and now he was so composed, she almost didn't believe it. His large hands came up to her face, surrounding her. "You're in shock Molly," he whispered, as the pads of his thumbs caressed her cheeks. Sherlock slowly pulled her off the counter and moved his belstaff around her shoulders. She looked so small as it engulfed her. "I'm going to call Mycroft, he will take care of this. Can you walk?" he asked gently.

"Yes," she said weakly. Trying to take a step proved her a liar, she let out a sob as both of her knees gave out.

"That's alright, Molly," Sherlock murmured as he swept her up.

She didn't want to remember much else, as he took her to her bedroom and laid her down. Molly inhaled the familiar smell of Sherlock from his jacket, relaxing with with scent of his cologne surrounding her. Sherlock stood with his back against the locked door as he called his elder brother to take away her fiance. Molly didn't care what had to happen, she just wanted this night to go away forever. Embarrassment set in when Molly heard him mumble _I do believe it's happened before_ to the phone, realizing she hadn't been as good at hiding it as she thought.

 _Did he notice the afternoon we went out on the train case?_ She wondered, _Or did he notice when I had to put makeup over the bruises at the wedding? How long did he wait to intervene?_ Fear sank in as she started to make a list of people who must have noticed her longer sleeves and darker bags under her eyes.

"It will be alright now," Sherlock said to her as he sunk onto the other side of the bed.

The next thing she remembered was waking up wrapped in Sherlock's coat and his arms. Her heart raced as her mind second guessed if it was actually Tom.

"Its me, Molly, don't worry," he reassured her, "I've got you… you're safe." Molly began quietly shedding tears as she relaxed in his grasp. His fingers twisted the ring on her finger. "You should leave him."

"I love him," her hoarse voice let out.

Sherlock sighed. "Other people care about you too much for you to be killed by some stupid bastard."

"He's my only shot at a family of my own," she cried.

"No he's not," Sherlock whispered as he held her tighter, "we are all you're family. You are not alone. Ever."

Two days later John Watson brought Sherlock to her lab, forcing him to pee in a cup.

She slapped him in anger.

He thanked her for the lack of an engagement ring.


End file.
